


Simple Addition &  Abstract Concepts

by orphan_account



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Double Penetration, Felix's horny, M/M, Mild Mind Games, Multi, Peter's an asshole, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rufio's confused, Threesome - M/M/M, and i am so sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b> In which Rufio's invited to join Pan and Felix in their treehouse. </b> </p><p> “Come on. If imagination’s too difficult for you, let me simplify. It’s not an abstract concept. It’s <i> maths</i>. What's one, plus one, plus one?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple Addition &  Abstract Concepts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [z0mbieshake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Slightly Curled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3664326) by [z0mbieshake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/z0mbieshake/pseuds/z0mbieshake). 



> Title is completely subject to change. If anyone has anything less cringey please let me know.

"I need to talk to you later."

Felix's voice cuts through the warm silence of midday and takes Rufio by surprise. It's their tenth patrol together. Felix usually requires a good dose of lame jokes and messing before he's willing to put the whole  _soldier_ thing aside and actually  _talk._ The change in pace, Rufio thinks, is refreshing.

"Sure," He says, nodding amiably to his friend. "What about?"

"Didn't I say  _later?_ " Felix retorts in that same slow drawl of his that makes Rufio damn thankful he's back on patrol with him and not with Nibs and his nasal squawking.

"Fine. But now I'm gonna figure it's this big surprise all for me." With a toothy grin, Rufio grabs hold of both Felix's shoulders. He intends to give a friendly, completely platonic, squeeze. But he can feel the knots under Felix's skin. The angular bone is firm under the pads of Rufio's fingers and he can teel the tenseness there. The tangible stress of being Pan's lieutenant radiates off the kid.

All he wants right now is to rub his thumb in broad circles. Put pressure on those knots and work them out. It's so potent that he already senses the blood dashing up to his neck before he can even rip his hands away.

"I, uh," He mumbles, swallowing gulps of oxygen in an inane attempt to drown his embarrassment. He laughs next, choking up the sound. "So. You gonna tell me when later is?"

"Tonight," Felix announces, peering down between the roots of a kapok tree to look for a den or a nest of some sort. "After the Boys go to sleep. Pan's treehouse."

_What._

"Oh, yeah right. Tell me where I'm meeting ya, Felix." He takes in Felix's solemn gaze and Rufio's grin fades just as fast as he plastered it on. "You...you're serious?"

"It's safe."

"For  _you."_ Rufio huffs and he tries to stop the world from spinning when Felix steps in closer.

"What sort of agenda do you assume I have?"

Felix sounds hurt. Rufio's learnt the tells over his short time on the island. But Lost Boys don't apologize.

"Depends on what kinda stuff Pan's offering you." Rufio tries, but his joke falls flat. Felix's eyes are cold, his mouth drooping down into a frown and it looks so familiar and yet so novel that Rufio can't place it. It's not something he's used to seeing on Felix's face. And so, he tries again. "Nah. It's not that. It's just...I mean, you know Pan doesn't like me."

And there's a reason for that. But it's the elephant in the room, and if Felix isn't mentioning it, neither is Rufio.

One corner of Felix's lip twists up, though Rufio could be mistaken. The amusement gone so quick Rufio isn't sure if he ever say it at all. Felix's wearing an expression just shy of upset right now. Edging on disappointment and it's the indication of that which brings Rufio to his next outburst.

"I'll come." He gulps out, gasping for air. "Even if it is Pan's treehouse. You wouldn't hurt me anyways."

There's a funny noise in the back of Felix's throat when he adds, "Pan wouldn't either."

Just about every bone in Rufio's body disagrees with that, but he knows better than to mention it. Especially this early on in the patrol. And so, he ignores it. Sighs up to the sky, and resumes the usual routine of dumb jokes and messing just to alleviate some of the tension that arose with the ambiguous request.

 

* * *

 

Rufio wants to be anxious about tonight. He wants to sit and ruminate and wonder what Felix has in store for him later. But, by rote, Pan sweeps down into camp. Even if Rufio wants to hate Pan, knows he should, he can't help but dance along to the pipes. It's worth envying Felix, how he can somehow sit right beside Pan's hip and stare into the fire as though he hears nothing at all. The self-control he exhibits proves his worth as a lieutenant, for all the other things he does, this matters most.

And Rufio wishes he could ignore the pipes. But they're mystical, joyous. The sound thrums to the beat of something deeper and more profound than a human heart, but rather ebbs and flows according to the more feral pulse of the island itself. He can't stop it. Before he knows what he's doing, he's light as air, hopping and whooping and hollering. He ducks as Tootles leaps over him. They each got these grins plastered on their faces. For all their broadness, those grins are just as real as everything else on Neverland.

 

* * *

 

 

He uses Slightly as his clock. Slightly's got this annoying habit of waiting for Curly to return from the little'uns' camp and crawl into the bedroll just under Slightly's hammock. Becuase of this habit, Rufio knows that Slightly's almost always the last one awake.

The weeping fades, soon enough. It never gets any better, but most of the bigger boys manage to find sleep anyway. Rufio's fading himself, but continues to pinch himself awake every time he starts to drift. And he lies like that for two hours at least, a firm grip on the fleshy bit over the vein in his wrist, and listening to the depressing soundtrack of his friends; sniffles and tears, a whirring mind, spinning off potential of the conversation to be had keeps him wide awake, however, and stays the tears in his own eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

He should turn back now. This was all some kind of twisted joke.

Either that, or Pan found out that Felix wanted to talk to him privately. Maybe this is some kind of punishment for Felix daring to seek out third party friendship. That's the worst of Pan, really. Rufio can live with the narcissism and surplus of electric energy. But it's the possessiveness, or rather, the possessiveness over Felix, that will haunt his dreams for weeks to come.

And so, to reiterate, he should turn back  _now._

But, as it happens, he's glued to the spot. Caught in the sticky red glow of firelight, the single beam of light cast right over his eye as he peers through the door. It's such a thin crack between the door and its frame that Rufio has to lean  _in,_ even though he really should be climbing down the rope ladder and praying the Neverbeasts aren't feeling hungry on his trek from the treehouse back to camp. But it's impossible to move now. His heart's sunk through his stomach and his legs have forgotten how to move.

Inside, the scene winds on. Pan himself is inside, lying flat on his back on a mattress covered in furs. Felix presses up to him, hands between the bodies. He toils with the buckle on Pan's shirt nimble fingers, mouths pressed together and popping apart and latching once more. It's a cycle that never ends - won't end.

Pan sits up on his tailbone to shake the wrapped shirt off his arms. His legs hug tightly around Felix's hips; they're pressed together with a crushing intimacy. Pan's shirt falls to the floor and out of Rufio's line of vision. Felix whips the netted tunic over his head a moment later.

Rufio has never thought about what Pan looks like bared. His thoughts on the magical boy have always slanted more towards  _Please don't kill me_ and  _Oh, shit. Didn't see you there._ But now that he's presented with it, he really can't complain.

(Actually, he can complain and he  _should,_ considering if he gets caught right now he is so far beyond dead.)

Pan's got smooth skin and it fits perfectly over his bones. Felix covers his collarbone with his mouth, but it protrudes ever so slightly, casting a shadow into the hollows. Rufio struggles to make out his ribs, but if he looks close enough, he can see them lying under the planes of lean muscle that aren't quite  _defined_ but they suggest something.

Felix busies himself on Pan's collar and neck. A mess of lips and tongue and teeth and it looks like he's dead set on leaving a bruise behind and marring that smooth skin. And it looks like he knows what he's doing. It's about now that Rufio realizes he's got a half risen hard-on. It's only an added complication and not something he wants to worry about. But he can't tear his eyes away as Felix reaches the pulse point and Pan actually groans.

And Rufio can't help it when he spits out a gasp. He didn't mean to. And here's where things go horribly wrong.

_Goodbye, life. It was nice knowing you._

Pan stops. His grin is crooked and manic. Felix's head shoots up, eyes wide and worrying. But Pan inclines just so slightly, his tongue is wet and pink when it darts out to lap at Felix's lips. He presses in once and then says, loud and announcing, "He's here."

If Rufio was ever going to run away he definitely lost his window. Pan's not gonna take kindly to the interruption and there's something profoundly wrong with Rufio and the way he stood there for so long. He just hopes Pan will be merciful.

Pan waves his wrist and Rufio has to jump out of the way as the magic blows the door open. There's no pretending left to do. Rufio's caught, red-handed and dry-throated, and Pan's smirk twists up his face and he can't read Felix's face.

"Come in," Pan says, untangling his legs from around Felix's hips. Felix obliges him, scooting away on the slippery furs and reorienting himself on the opposite edge of the bed.

It's best to obey orders. Especially in a time like this.. But he can't move. His heels refuse to step forward. The fear and adrenaline made his hard-on worse and that might just be enough to sign off on his own death.

"Don't be shy now." Pan laughs. He waves his hand a second time and this time Rufio can feel the strings on his arms and legs as he jolts forward, moving his knees and elbows like hinges on a marionette, following the steps Pan's directing. Rufio looks to Felix in a last-ditch effort to beseech him, but Felix is wearing an amused smirk himself and that, right there, is enough to break Rufio's heart.

The shards rip through his stomach and shatter on his ribs. There's nothing left to do but beg. He stammers. "I-I mean, I didn't-I don't...the Boys are asleep and I...I didn't see-I didn't  _mean to_ see…"

Pan stands now, his hipbones are visible and highlighted over the grey in his trousers. He grins when Rufio stops mid-sentence. "Are you finished?"

"I...yeah." There's nothing to defend.

"Good," Pan says, circling around him and Rufio takes a deep breath to brace himself for the strike. And then, Pan speaks again. "You were late so we started without you. Figured you won't mind. Your own fault for being late, after all."

_Wait. What?_

Rufio spins around to find Pan...close. He's staring directly into his eyes. They're green and sparkling with mischief and mayhem and Rufio  _knows better_ than to look at them too long, but it fits. They're the same height, Rufio realizes all of a sudden. Pan always seemed so much bigger than him before now.

"Do you?" Pan prods him. "Mind, I mean."

"No" is ready on Rufio's lips and it spills out before he can orient himself. Pan's hovering, close and invading his air. But he doesn't touch him. Rufio can't be sure if he likes this game or not. He rips his eyes away from Pan, alluring though they are, and turns to his friend.

"Felix," He begs. "What's going on?"

"I told you," Felix says easily, still perched on the side of the mattress. "I needed to talk to you."

"I don't get it."

Pan interrupts. Of course he does. Rufio really shouldn't be complaining about who offers the elaboration but for some reason, it matters.

"I've noticed a thing or two about you, Rufio." Pan's voice is dark and gravelly, melodic. It's the inverse of his pipes but somehow they have the same effect. "Most unsettling of which is your preoccupation with Felix here."

"I don't mean anything bad by it," Rufio says. "Just good fun. No harm."

Pan cocks his brow to showcase his disagreement but he takes one long, deliberate step before he's standing just off Rufio's other shoulder. Standing close, still, but not touching. His chest is still bare and there's a wet bite mark on the junction of his neck and jaw. Rufio looks to Felix, but his friend hasn't moved.

"I mean, come on," Rufio speaks more to relieve the silence than anything else. "I'm not gonna  _do_ anything."  
"No?" Pan drolls out a long sigh and then, "Pity."

"What's going on?" Rufio's patience is tried. If he's going to die tonight, just let it happen. If anything's going to happen tonight, it's remained suspended in air long enough.

"You've got a secret," Pan sighs. "But it so happens that everyone knows it."

Rufio presses his lips together and looks again to Felix. He wishes he can say,  _I'm sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable? I won't anymore. Intervene._ But you can't just interrupt Pan. No matter how many times he interrupts you, it's not a reciprocal luxury.

" _Peter,"_ Felix says, crushing Rufio's thoughts the second they enter his head. "Stop playing with him."

"Isn't that the point?" Pan calls over his shoulder, expression lost to Rufio but voice dumbfoundingly jovial. When he turns back, his grin is skewed. "I'm not about to spell it out for you."

" _What are you-"_

"Come on, Rufio," Pan steps in closer. Rufio didn't even realize that was possible, but he's so close right now, his lips almost bounce off his ear when he speaks. "You're a Lost Boy. Use your imagination. What, do you think, am I telling you?"

That's just it. Rufio  _can't_ use his imagination or things will get out of hand. But, he can't linger in silence and so he blurts, "You want Felix to yourself, message received."

"My. Aren't you a thick one?" Pan laughs at that. Outright. A crashing, dark noise like a thunderstorm in the dead of night. He swings around so he's standing on Rufio's toes. Right in front of his face. Their eyes, nose, and lips aligning. "Come on. If imagination's too difficult for you, let me simplify. It's not an abstract concept. It's  _maths."_

" _Peter."_ Felix calls again, deadpan in voice, and Pan snickers.

"What's one," Pan takes a hand and presses it to his own chest. It's a rolling movement of the wrist when the fingers flick over to Rufio. "Plus one," His hand doesn't stop and his fingers grow still, pointing at Felix. "Plus one?"

The look on Rufio's face is enough to show that he - finally - understands. He jolts back, breath shallow. "Are you…? But we hate each other."

"Please." Pan rolls his shoulders, and it's distracting enough to Rufio that the magical boy counts it was a victory. "Even if you did... _hate me,"_ He pauses and savors the words on this tongue, brows dancing along with his speech. "You still want me just the same as every other boy on the island does. Or, at least, those of your... _persuasion._ "

That's just...not true. Rufio only knows a small collective of boys who're inclined to take other boys as their lovers. There's Slightly. But he's got something of a Curly-Or-Nothing mindset. Curly likes all sexes in equal amounts but Slightly's the only one who matters to him. Rufio hasn't got a handle on Ace quite yet, but from the way he blushed around that blue he-fairy friend of Slightly's, it seems as though he also qualifies. But, again, no indication of wanting Pan in any way other than a friend or leader. Felix might be the only one who trusts Pan enough to even let him fuck him, much less to  _want_ it. And as for Rufio himself, well, it's impossible to tell right now, with Pan hovering and warm right in front of him.

He doesn't trust Pan. But he trusts Felix. And Felix is right here. Just across the room, he'll be at their side in a moment. And so, he thinks, why not humor Pan?

"You're such a fucking narcissist," He says, reaching out to wrap a dirt-caked hand around Pan's slender neck and kisses him. Just like that. It's disturbingly easy.

Pan's hands jolt out and clutch to Rufio's waist. Touching him, now. Fingers splayed by the wide trunk of his waist, pressing him close.

Was it possible that Pan's hovering, the way his hands stimmed by his own thighs while just standing and invading his air, not reaching out - was Pan waiting for Rufio's consent? For an initiation? For Rufio to admit that - yes, he wants to? Or is this all just another spell, another mind game?

Pan must've noticed Rufio holding back, lost in thought. Rufio starts when Pan takes this moment to introduce tongue, enticing him into a deeper kiss by sliding on the inside of his lip before retreating and somehow  _knowing_ Rufio will chase him into it.

He tastes like honeysuckle and fresh water. Rufio's hands move from around Pan's neck to clutch at his hair. It's soft and wispy, clean and just long enough for Rufio to get a good grip on it. Pan shoves both hands down his pants and this is really it. No backing down now, and, what's more shocking, is Rufio doesn't want to.

There's two hands on his ass and a soft skinned, firm knuckle slides down his jaw. That's when Rufio remembers.  _Felix._

He jolts away from Pan's mouth and turns to Felix. Eyes wide, he can't believe that Felix is standing there, right beside where he and Pan were kissing, warm and steady.

Felix is standing here, hands moving slowly as he eases his way into the game.

Something turns to ice in Rufio's stomach. If this is just a game to Pan, well, Rufio wouldn't expect anything less. But if Felix is the same...if Felix is viewing this as a  _game._ Like Rufio's just a doll or that this could be entertaining for a night, Rufio doesn't know if he can handle it.

And so he opens his mouth; it comes out as a whisper. "Do you want me?"

"Yes," Felix says it so plainly, so clearly, it's like rain on dry, cracked ground.

"Actually," Pan's voice comes, but Rufio won't look at him, too fixated by the slender angles on Felix's face. "This was all Felix's idea."

For a moment, Rufio can't feel Pan's hands on him. Right now, it's just Felix's eyes shutting and darkness as he opens his mouth and all he can feel is the soft, slightly weathered, skin of Felix's lips, the thundering of his own heart, and the panicked loneliness when Felix starts to pull away. Rufio doesn't realize that he jumps up and peppers more light kisses to his face.

And he can only hope that it doesn't come across as desperate as he feels like it is.

Felix steps back, and by the time Rufio opens his eyes again, Felix and Pan are kissing. Maybe it's the proximity but there's something transfixing in the way they move together. It's bittersweet. They've had years to memorize each other and the combination is gorgeous and unfathomable as the stars on a clear night.

They part, with Felix palming Peter through his trousers. With his free hand, he takes Rufio - threads their fingers together and tugs him in closer. Rufio trips over his feet but ends up where intended, chest to chest to chest with the two boys. He doesn't want to start shaking, but his body betrays him. Heat builds all the way from the tips of his toes to the red edges of his hair.

"What-what do I do?" He asks, because he's not only out of practice, he's only eighteen. Or, somewhere in his thirties if you're counting total years lived. But point is, he isn't old enough to have this kind of experience.

Felix's lips split into a grin, Rufio can feel it taut against his lips when he comes in again. And he's smiling just as broadly. He can't help it, can't hide it. Not with Felix.

Pan's looming right beside him. He quirks a brow and says, breath hitching from Felix's hand and its ministrations. "Use your imagination."

Rufo isn't sure what to do. He's an outsider. The only reason he's even here is probably because Pan got bored and he's the only one Felix cares for enough to ask to help alleviate that boredom. But, maybe, he can prove them wrong. Maybe he can be so good that they won't need a  _reason_ next time.

And so, yes, he'll use his imagination

But he's not doing so well this far. How could he be while Felix is merely lacing their fingers together with his left hand and tossing Pan off with his right? It puts everything into a sickening perspective Rufio doesn't want to think about.

_Although..._

It's an impulsive idea, but impulse can get you far in a place like Neverland. Shaking Felix's hand off, Rufo takes one of Pan's wrists. Felix fills his newly empty hand by wrapping it around Rufio's hips. The initiation fills Rufo's stomach in a pathetic way, but he can't focus on it.

Pan's said nothing, Rufio still holds his wrist, waits for his turn with a self-important sigh. Rufio goes for broke, unlaces the leather cuff around Pan's wrist with his mouth. It falls, useless, with a muted thud, the sound is lost in the crackle of the fire on the other end of the room, and Rufio kisses the pulse point. He unties the other cuff with his free hand, maneuvering his mouth up the wrist, makes his way on up till he can nibble on Pan's thumb.

"Interesting," Pan coos, too sweet to be anything but an attempt for control. But what else can you do? He lets the godlike boy have that control. And, if nothing else, it's also encouraging. So Rufo waits for the approving smile from Felix and counts that as a victory.

Pan waves his hand and, proving himself the puppet master, the next moment Rufio finds himself on his knees with Felix's thighs bracketing his ears.

He has to blink to realize what's happened; how he went from eyeing Felix from the side to staring at the crackling fireplace from the floor. Pan's rearranged them, moved their limbs like dolls, till all three of them are in a position suited to what Pan wants.

Felix is in the center. Leaning back onto his hands with his knees knocked wide, Rufio situated between them, leaning forward. Felix only takes a moment to adjust to the change in pace; he's accustomed to Pan switching the scene so often. Pan's perched behind him, hands roaming under his vest, nosing and kissing into Felix's ear and blond snarls.

And Rufio...well, Rufio gets it now.

"Well?" Peter taunts. "Isn't Felix the reason you came here in the first place?  _I'd_ hate to see him unattended, wouldn't you?"

Rufio bristles. Nobody could call him a spoil-sport. And so, to still the accusation, he sits up, tries to mimic the crooked grins that they've perfected into a matching set in the decades, and reaches for Felix's belt. It's more difficult than the strings on the cuffs. The belt is old and worn, it has too many folds and fastens. He toils for a moment, works through it, and tries not to glare when Pan snickers. And the moment he looks up, Pan places a kiss, small and innocuous, to Felix's shoulder. By the time Rufio can draw in a breath, his clothes are breaking apart, tearing at the seams and splitting against the furs. They fade into nothing the second they scrape against anything that isn't Felix's skin.

The spell is for show. It has to be. Because the fire crackles on the other side of the room and suddenly everything's gone on all three of them without smoke or glitter or glamour. One moment they're clothed and the next they're not.

A bolt of electricity rakes though Rufio the moment he moves his eyes from Pan to Felix. Right through his stomach, under his abdomen, sending an aftershock through his cock.

Felix is so much skinnier than Pan. Rufio knows this, but he can make out the dips of each bone without trying. He's not unhealthily skeletal, but any weight loss whatsoever and he won't be very far from. Felix is scarred, but not incredibly so. There's a full mouth indentation in his shoulder, something jagged over his ribs, the memory of a claw in his breast, and the drag of a knife on his hip. It's almost meticulously placed and Rufio wonders if Pan heals Felix of all the scars he doesn't want to keep. If anyone were the type to hoard scars as trophies, it'd be Felix.

Rufio drags his eyes down his friend's body, till he can't stall any longer and bites his lip to stop from making any sort of embarrassing expression. Naked, he still looks like Felix. He's long and thin and mesmerizing.

Rufio spits into his palm and takes Felix in hand. He watches, half mesmerized, half willing to just forget for a minute that Pan's perched on Felix's shoulder, and just watches Felix's foreskin glide down the shaft. Deep breaths, now. No reason to be worried.

Except for there are some things friendships just can't go back from. And this is probably one of them.

And so, he looks up. Waiting to see reproach or glare, second-guesses, or - what might be worse -  _entertainment_ in Felix's eyes. But there's nothing in the grey except for a wild gleam.

This is a language Rufio hasn't spoken for a while, but he thinks he still understands. Hopes he does.

He splays his fingers once he's drawn the skin back, watches Felix suck in a small breath. Rufio can tell from his periphery that Pan's dragging three long fingers down his spine.

With a moment of eye contact hinging in the air, Rufio places a line of soft kisses down Felix, head to base, hand still withholding the skin and stippling underneath. Felix bucks his hips, strangles out a grunt. His pulse gets pounding, blood rampages through his veins and, a few more noises like  _that,_ he'll feel lightheaded.

Rufio looks back up, Felix's face is twisted and Rufio can see, from behind, Peter's sharp teeth latched onto his neck while his hand disappears behind Felix's back. His shoulder tilts - a twist of the wrist, and Felix bucks again.

Rufio hasn't gotten a good rhythm yet, but he sticks to the 's clunky and awkward, the air feels humid down on the ground. But there isn't much left to do but keep going. He nods his head and tries not to choke himself. Allows for a reprieve to lap and kiss at Felix's skin, pushing his hand up and down the base, before starting all over again.

Felix whines and twists fingers through Rufio's hair, a beautiful breathy sound carries through the air to belie the sharp pain to his scalp.

Rufio wonders, for a moment, how long Felix has wanted this. If he ever considered sliding into a hollow tree during their patrols.

When Felix bucks a third time, Rufio uses the momentum and swallows him down. Felixsighs high and his eyes fling to the ceiling, starting to water. And it's to Pan's credit just as much as it is Rufio's, or even perhaps more, but right now it doesn't matter. He's in the movement, tasting Felix's skin and the thin watery fluid that's seeping out, salty and warm down Rufio's throat.

A thought slithers to Rufio's mind and - for a moment - he's grateful there's an air of play to this. If not, if he was left to technique and technique alone, there'd be enough gravity here to crush him. But, at least now he can bluff.  _No, of course that's not how I_ really  _do it. I was just playing, right?_ The sportsmanship present gives Rufio a safety net.

Everything's interrupted next, when Pan  _sighs._ Rufo's familiar with the sound. It's the same one Pan makes whenever he's bored and needs a change of pace. He can't believe it, breaks away from Felix to gape at Pan.

"What is it?" Felix asks, already twisted around to better face the magical boy, frown knitted and serious. You wouldn't think that he'd just had a tongue on his cock, Rufio thinks with a stab to his pride.

"I just thought this'd be more," Pan shrugs, brows rising as he speaks, " _Fun."_

Felix looks like a kicked puppy, wide eyed and mouth agape, while Rufio can't help but shout out a rather offended " _Hey!"_

Pan only rolls his eyes in response. "I didn't expect it'd be so...predictable."

Felix clears his throat, asks with scorched voice, "What do you suggest, then?"

It's obvious to Rufio. He rises to his feet on wobbly legs, takes a deep breath and snatches his confidence in his fists. "We get less predictable."

 

* * *

 

 

" _M-more."_

It's the only word Rufio remembers, shaking off his tongue and jerking up into a rough moan. Stomach heaving with ragged breath, he's lying on top of Felix, his forearms and knees braced on the bed. Felix's hands grip tight into his hips, guide him down till he can feel the blunt head of Felix's cock press against him.

_Deep breaths now._

He opens his eyes and, for a second, forgets that Pan's standing on his knees behind him. For a second, it's almost as if he'd come up to the treehouse for Felix and Felix alone. And he sits there, suspended in air, and feeling the warmth under him and the trembling in his elbows, eyes locked with Felix and knowing that, from this moment forward, he can't pretend anymore.

He braces his hand on the back of Felix's neck and throws their mouths together. Felix's lips are soft, his tongue almost tentative against the outer rim of his lip, but he kisses with an intensity that puts every other kiss, every other boy he's ever pressed up against, to shame.

Rufio caps off the kiss, and the moment is suspended on the air, locked eyes. It's almost a perfect moment, hot skin, shaking nerves. Pan breaks it by steepling his fingers on the base of Rufio's spine. Warm, staticy magic shoots from the tips, sinks through Rufio's skin. He can feel the stretch, the added intensity of the pressure. Something's dripping, a pulsing magic making everything slippery.

Pan's getting impatient and part of Rufio wants to ignore him and continue. But that's not part of the deal here.

Felix digs his nails into Rufio's hips. "Ready?"

A deep breath, Rufio does his best to relax, still his shoulders and calm his muscles. He reorients himself on the bed, hovering over Felix with his sweaty hands fisted in the furs underneath. His arms wobble when he sits back. He's tense enough that there's resistance when Felix slides into him with a low moan. Head throws back, his voice rises into a pitchy strain as he lies still, waiting to adjust to the intrusion. And more than anything he hopes his inexperience isn't showing.

For all his talk and challenges, even though this was his idea, even though he's had sex before Neverland, he's only done it this way once before. And even then he's never been with more than one boy at a time.

Maybe it's because he's thinking about it, but Pan catches on.  _Somehow._

"Are you  _sure_  you can handle this?" Pan calls, teasing voice. "If you want to back out now…"

"Gimme a- _ah-_ a damn minute-" Rufio grunts, relaxing his muscles and letting himself get used to the stretch and pressure inside him. He adds a sly grin once he finally grows used to it and looks over his shoulder to Pan, "'less you wanna back out?"

Pan quirks a brow, eyes gone dark and slaps his hand back down on the base of Rufio's spine. The magic surges again and Rufio's muscles stretch further away from themselves and from Felix lingering inside him.

Patience isn't, apparently, Felix's virtue. Or at least it seems as Felix lets off a small whine, bucks his hips up. Rufio gasps, babbling as their hips clash together, Felix's single thrust into him. It feels so good, the rest of the world fades out, gone white around the edges.

"Stay still, both of you." Pan swallows, the guttural from his throat almost dry.

Hissing up to a grin, Rufio looks over his shoulder. "Thought you'd like the challenge."

Felix snickers and there's a flash in Pan's eyes. Rufio tries to relax in whatever way he can when Pan appears to float closer. Hands on him. Rufio can feel the static magic spin out from Pan's fingers, the vibration and warmth as it finishes the last of it, stretching Rufio further. He groans, and Felix must be getting something out of this too becuase he follows suit.

And then, with a burst of pressure, Pan joins them.

It's overwhelming, Rufio's knees knock and go weak. Melted. If he wasn't suspended by the power of two bodies, it's possible he would've collapsed onto Felix's chest.

Words are shorting out, thoughts blur into one another. Felix alone was an adjustment, and now that Pan's with them, Rufio's filled more than he ever thought he could be. He struggles to collect his breath, the intrusion apexes when Pan slides his hips forward, pushes him up on the bed and, from his bed, Felix gasps.

To that noise, Rufio nods, rolls his hips back and hisses at the way he's being pulled in two directions, sweating with electricity surging up and down his spine. He's sinking under and  _fast_. Rufio sucks a sloppy kiss from Felix's mouth. Pan bites his shoulder blade. There's a puncture, and the pain his heightened.

Rufio's sinking under, and just before he passes the point of forgetting his own name, he manages to blurt out the words. "I'm good. Get on with it."

It's expected, but Pan sets the rhythm and Felix follows suit. Forceful, choppy thrusts together. Pan's still conducting everything. His magic is perpetually accommodating, blooming hot inside Rufio, slickening their skin just enough for the friction stimulate, not enough to make them sore.

Felix snaps his hips up, held down by gravity but punching his way through the atmosphere, one hand clutching the fleshy bits by Rufio's ribs and the other behind, grasping for Pan.

And Rufio is not jealous. Not at all. If he'd ever expected this to happen, it seems realistic enough that he'd have to share.

They move, the three of them, knocking and without a decent range of motion, nothing but the shallow sinking back and jilted payoff inside Rufio, grating across every individual body and into them as a trio.

The movement is constant, grating opposite so he's always getting catch and release combined into one at the same time. His legs and arms feel rubbery, robbed of all structure and he couldn't have the strength to move even if he knew what to do. It's hot and intense and there's nothing to be done about the way his stomach ties itself in knots and he's getting close.

It's embarrassing as hell because they just started but this is too much and he can't control himself. It hasn't even been a whole minute yet. But he knows it's coming.

If he thought it'd help he'd probably hold his breath. But before he knows what's happening his stomach quivers, everything tightening and spasming and with a jilted explicative, he comes. It's a long white stream splattering on Felix's stomach. Rufio's ears ring and Felix's hips thrust up for purchase when Pan lifts Rufo up and away.

He hits the blankets soon as he's spent. He sees double for a moment, phantom movement still filling him, cocks rubbed up against each other, stuffed inside him. It fades slowly, drifting out of him as the aftershocks shoot through his nerves.

There's a moment when Rufio sees nothing but shapes. Blurred lines and shapes and pinpricks of light that dot through his vision over the ceiling.

 _Did that really just happen?_ He thinks first, and then his face grows how at the prospect of his own lackluster performance. Thankfully, the other two don't seem to mind. Rufio turns his head towards them. They've compensated for Rufio's finish. The backs of Felix's knees hinge over Pan's shoulders, and Pan rocks the two of them forward with the knuckles of one hand flushed white on the headboard.

It's partway thrilling, partway gorgeous the way these two move together with such practice ferocity. The other, less optimistic part, feels  _abandoned,_ feels used.  _._

He won't stir on that too much, though. Not right now. He's got a limited blood supply, and frankly, he doesn't want his brain to have it. And thus, he reclines his head back, gazes on with hooded eyes and breathes in their intensity through the air.

Felix goes first, Pan pounding into him all the way through his orgasm, hips snapping and breath laboring. Pan's not long after that. The magical boy shoots onto his back, allowing Felix to collapse on top and ride him through his exhaustion to completion.

And then, they lie back, tangled up in one another. Rufio lies still, unsure of his place. Creeping insecurity tells him that, perhaps, he's overstayed his welcome.

But then, by some miracle, Felix reaches for him. A long hand clasped around Rufio's wrist and he's flung back into the center. With a low snicker, Pan presses his lips to Felix's neck, his fringe sweaty and chest billowing at a rate Rufio's never seen.

"Perhaps I should keep you both like this," He smiles, sharp teeth glinting in the firelight. Lips are turned up when he sucks a second kiss from Felix's lips, loud and wet. "Unraveled. It suits you."

Rufio feels the static and magic wrap around his limbs again, and he's thrust forward, hovering on his hands and knees above them. Felix's eyes glimmer toward him, smoky and unintelligible in his afterglow. Yet, somehow, it's still comforting. Pan shoots up and licks the synapse between Rufio's gaping lips.

"Thought the party was over, eh?"

Rufio isn't sure what to say, can't think of a witty retort, and so he merely licks back. He summons the electric pulse whirring through his spine, reaches for the warm tendon on Felix's neck.

Pan chuckles dark in his throat, and, Rufio is unsure if it's through physically or by magic, flips them. Pan now at his place hovering above Rufio and Felix.

For half a beat, he's eclipsed.

And then Felix has a hand in Rufio's hair, messy and unkempt for once. When he kisses him, it's like the world stops. Rufio can only sigh into it, feels their bare skin, warm and sticky slide up against one another. And, it's so fucking corny, but it finally feels like he's home in Neverland.

Felix's lips are smooth and firm, insistent and practiced. His tongue flits out every once in a while, nothing so obscene as in foreplay, just enough to drink Rufio in. Hands roam on hot skin, Rufio dares to knot his hands in Felix's hair.

And then Pan stoops in closer.

Rufio's so thoroughly wrapped up in this, in Felix, that he almost jumps when Pan comes in closer. It's an awful sin, but he nearly forgot their leader was here.

"It's hardly been five minutes," Pan says, thinly veiled confidence belying something dark, sinister. "Don't get ahead of yourselves."

Rufio feels Felix pulling away before his eyes flutter open. But, to his utter shock, the blond boy isn't staring at Pan in apology, he's looking at Rufio. There's something mischievous in the glint of his eyes and somehow Rufio just  _knows._

They reach out in tandem, operating on the same wavelength, as they curl their fingers 'round the back of Pan's neck and tug so that he falls in a heap atop them.

**Author's Note:**

> And, class, today we'e learnt that of all the things I _can_ write well, threesomes are not one of them.
> 
> Acknowledgements 
> 
> The lovely and wonderful **z0mbieshake** for creating the amazing 'verse of Slightly Curled and allowing me to barge in with more kink. And for reading through an early draft of this. And for generally being a super pal.


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